Nose: A powerful whiff of wood then a wealth of sweet rye spices dissolve slowly into dark fruits. The aroma begins to dry out before it suddenly sparkles with bursts of ginger. An appealing fresh-cut lumber, rich in cedar and oak, forms a backbone that supports everything else.

Palate: Vanilla toffee, then loads of wood: Canadian wood, not the harsh tannic oak of first-use barrels, but fresh and aromatic like a lumberyard. Some slightly drying tannins do sneak in after a few minutes, though. Fragrant red cedar is underscored by hot pepper and sweet rye spices. A refreshing limey zest develops quickly. The peppery spices are warm, mingling neatly with a touch of ripe fruit. It’s zesty, but it’s also creamy and has decent weight.

Behind door number two, Andrew Currie shows that everything fun comes back again… even if it’s Swedish (someone tell him Nokia is in Finland).

Nose: The very expressive nose begins with rich caramel, fruity sherried notes, and dusty rye. It smells almost like creamy corn whisky as the rye is quite mild at first. Some typical sour rye notes that remind you of pickles or sweet-and-sour sauce are followed by something floral. Again, this is typical of rye whisky, but the rye Christmas spices are very faint indeed. Finally, some citrus notes surface—orange peel this time, then lots of ripe fruit— sweet, over-ripe plums, juicy, rich Vancouver-Island blackberries and tartish black currants. Very fruity.

Palate: A first impression of sweet fruits and creamy toffee turns into an ever-changing menu of rye spices and pepper. Sweet-and-sour notes meld into the vaguest tangy, zesty bitterness in the middle. Zesty bitterness is not only one of the many great things about Canadian whisky, it helps define its signature taste. This is the element of the Canadian whisky profile that keeps the palate fresh and responsive. Though it tastes and feels a lot like corn whisky, the rye keeps poking its head in with spices, pepper, bushel-baskets of ripe red fruits, dry grain, a slight earthiness, and freshwater plants. There are hints of sweet cream sherry, then burnt sugar, more toffee, and then increasingly peppery spices with more cinnamon/ginger notes. Lots of lingering heat hovers over a sweet foundation.

Finish: Medium, sweet, peppery, and fading. Although it seems medium in length, it never totally goes away despite the underlying citric zest. Rather, it lingers over cinnamon, ginger, and white pepper, with hints of dusty rye.

So there you have it. Shotcasting this Wednesday night on episode 100 of DyscultureD… needless to say the podcast won’t be uploaded until Thursday.

9 comments

I’ve been wracking what’s left of my brain for days now trying to find some pithy (no, I don’t have a lisp) comment worth of your 100th Dyscultured episode, but keep coming up empty. Maybe if it were a podcast of slightly lesser fame – Lovehatethings for example – I’d feel less intimidated – but man, when the three of you get going on something, or someone – holy shit – lookout – that’s a mighty wind! I just wouldn’t want to chance saying something that could be misconstrued thanks to my own ineptitude, so better I just shut up and continue listening, and try again when you reach 200. Yup – that’s it. I’ll just listen, for a change. Thank you.

I will not hesitate in saying that part of our growth in the Canadian podcast community has been largely due to your well-wishes and continual mentions via Dicks’n’Janes. We certainly thank you for that, your comment above, and for making us out to be far more imposing than we think of ourselves.

You are welcome to pop on the show whenever you wish, as I know your are far too important to come on lovehatethings. At least that’s what my friend Miss Construed said.